


extra credit

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien Sex, Aliens, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Boarding School, Double Dick, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhibitionism, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Mutual Pining, Name-Calling, Other, Pining, Power Dynamics, Size Kink, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tentacle Dick, Verbal Humiliation, Xeno, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The only good thing about being accepted into a school this expensive is the sheer amount ofgross sexual misconduct bullshitthat the Headmaster lets them get away with.In other words: Mel goes to a new school, Mel's new best friend is the school slut, Mel falls inlovewith his new best friend, and he--Well. He gets fucked, like, a lot.





	1. extra credit

Okay, so maybe this is dumb but—

Mel huffs, checks his hair in his reflection in the class window—well, it's always messy, and he can't see what's going on inside the classroom because they always block it up with black construction paper, so—

So he looks at his reflection. His ears keep twitching and he keeps rubbing the lipstick off his mouth— _that was dumb, that was a dumb idea,_ but Asher said—

Ugh. Asher said it'd _help._ That it'd look good on him, the gold lipstick—but Mel keeps smearing it and reapplying it and just—it shimmers on his dark reflection and _ugh_!

Okay! Whatever!

He just needs to—

Just needs to walk in! Mel just has to lean against Mr. Minkarski’s desk and bat his eyelashes and pout a little and ask, _can I please take an extra credit assignment, sir?_

—he's just—he’s getting a 47 in mechanical engineering, okay? It’s a 47 in his string of 70s and he's already on partial scholarship, he can't drop any _lower_ than what he's already at, and he just—

If he has to suck his teacher’s dick for it, then, uh. He's desperate enough for that.

He's _really_ desperate.

And that's what Asher does! Asher says it'll help so—

So Mel huffs, smacks his lips together, brushes some hair out of his face, and marches in.

Slams open the door, _‘cause Makerdammit he’s gonna grab this opportunity by the balls literally so_ —

Except.

Uh.

Mr. Minkarski’s on his desk chair, that stupid intimidating desk chair that he barely even uses because Mr. Minkarski gets all _anxious_ and has to walk around to teach but—

Asher’s already between his thighs, on the floor, mouth open and swallowing around—

And Minkarski says something about _Maker you're taking it like a good little slut aren't you_?

And-and-and okay so _now_ it's time for Mel to _leave—_

And sure, Asher's _so so pretty_ , Mel could stay to watch but _no, no he can't,_ there's too much heat in his face and his ears are flattening and he just needs to _leave_ and forget about this so he can look at Asher in the eye again—

(And then maybe jerk off to Asher at night again, but—whatever!)

But. Mel is loud. Too noisy. Turns on his heel and then he hears Asher’s voice, rough and desperate and _ruined_ , “Hi Mel!”

Oh Maker. Oh, Maker, okay.

Mel turns around slowly. it's—so the thing is, Asher’s on his knees, with his tiny little skirt riding up and his thighs spread just a little— he’s turned away from Mr. Minkarski’s cock, which is just—slick and soaking with Asher’s spit, there's strings of saliva connecting his cock head to Asher’s lips still—

Fuck. Oh Maker. Okay. _Fuck_.

“Hi Asher!” Mel wheezes out. Mr. Minkarski’s looking at him too, now, frozen with his hand locked right in Asher’s hair still, eyes narrowing just a bit and—

 _Why does Mel always get himself into shit like this_.

Mel must’ve been staring too long because Mr. Minkarski snaps, “You can wait your turn outside, kid.”

Like Asher’s some, some _ride_ at an amusement park— _The Wonderland of Asher’s Body._ Step up, get a taste, get what you need and _get in line._

Before Mel can punch that _annoying, self-centered look_ off Minkarski’s face Asher beckons Mel over. “No, no, c’mere! You need your A! Lemme help you out, let’s be partners.”

And here’s the opportunity, there’s the make it or break it moment— _shut up, get on your knees, and get that A, Mel–_

But he’s never _done this_ before. And Asher? Asher has. There’s videos online of him with his mouth open, giggling around cocks bigger than Mel’s forearm. Asher _knows how_ to make a man happy, how to get so much come in him it dribbles out. Knows how to stumble back to the dorms, laughing, come and slick down his leg, _I had fuuuun tonight._

So—so learn from the master, right? Right.

So—so Mel takes a step forward.

It's slow but Asher’s giving him this _look_ again, enthusiastic but a little impatient and his mouth is all swollen, slick, and he's saying _c’mon, Mel!_

And then—and then this _asshole,_ no good, not even a _little_ cute engineering teacher groans, “We don’t have all day, kid. Either come here or get _out._ ”

—Maker, and Mel was here to _suck his dick_ on his own choice, but now he’s just—

So he gets on his knees, has to crawl forward a little, and Mr. Minkarski spreads his knees a little wider so Mel can fit—gives him that _dismissive-you're never good enough-dismissive_ look and Mel presses his teeth together and tries not to grind them.

Asher, though—Asher presses up against Mel’s side, hikes himself up to his knees so he can be tall enough to press his cheek against Mel’s, whispers, “It's okay—look! All you have to do is lick if it's too much—”

Mel huffs and just—Maker _dammit_ if Mr. Minkarski’s gonna be too much for him!

Asher gives Minkarski this look—big eyes, thick eyelashes, and a smile that says _wanna dirty me up?_ “Get the other one out, okay?” Minkarski looks like he’s about to object when Asher says, “It’ll be _good._ It’s always good with me, isn’t it?”

Mr. Minkarski blinks, furrows his eyebrows but—he huffs, pets down through Asher’s hair, says _fine_.

Gives Mel another look, unimpressed and a little _tired_ and—“Stop gritting your teeth together, kid. If you wanna do it, just do it.”

“I’m _gonna_ do it once you shut up and actually—you know—do whatever magic it is to pop out your weird spare dick. So!” Mel moves his hands around. “Chop chop!”

Asher giggles, bells and chimes. “You’re so cute.”

“That’s what you’re callin’ cute? Really?” Kanzen huffs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and frowning at _Mel—_ does he _ever_ give the _you’re dirt underneath my shoe_ look to Asher?

Asher gently pushes Mel’s head forward. “Here, just—I’ll work on the first one, you work on the second. Treat it like a, uh—a lollipop or somethin’. We’re a team, okay? Partners in crime.”

Mel blinks at him, ‘cause— _partners in crime_ in _what?_ But Asher’s just giving him that _smile_ before he lifts his head back up to suck—“Don't worry, Mel, okay?”

See, look, Mel’s a visual learner—he can’t learn anything from text or audio or any of that bullshit, he has to _see._ So, yeah, that’s why he’s watchin’ Asher smile up at Minkarski and Minkarski smile back. That’s why he’s staring at Asher’s mouth, at the smeared lipstick ‘cause Asher’s all optimistic and cute like that, _I’ll be the silver to your gold, Mellie!_ and Mel just—

Maybe he's looking at Asher to avoid lookin’ at Minkarski’s dicks. He’s _definitely_ doing it to avoid looking at Minkarski’s _stupid smug face_ , but, well, when Mel peeks up through his eyelashes Minkarski doesn't look smug at _all_ , his eyes are a little soft and he's biting his lip and—

And then he catches Mel’s gaze and _frowns_ and Mel ducks his head back again.

Okay, okay, it's just—he can do this! Asher’s doing it, Asher’s taking it like a _champ_ and he's saying Mel can do it too, lock his lips around the teacher’s cock and press silver lipstick rings all over, and Mel just—

“Do you need instructions?” Minkarski deadpans, and Mel tries not to startle, tries not to bristle. “I don't think they’d help you, considering your track record in class.”

This—this—

What an _asshole_!

Minkarski’s staring at him expectantly, until Asher pulls off with a _pop._ He’s panting, lips swollen and eyes heavy. “Kanzen, be _nice._ It’s his first time.”

 _No no no no, Asher, don't tell him that_ —

“I’m—” But Mel can't get his tongue to work, not really, and he's maybe about to just lean forward and try to lap at the head of Minkarski’s second cock just so he doesn't have to _fuckin’ explain himself_ , but—

But Mel feels long fingers twining through his own hair, lifting his head almost gently ‘til Minkarski says, “So, you're a virgin?”

 _No shut up oh my Maker_ —

But Asher’s giggling again, kissing Minkarski’s thighs. “Isn’t that cute, Kanzen? Look at ‘im.” Asher leans over and presses kisses against Mel’s face, too, and Mel shivers— his lips are _drenched,_ smearing precum and saliva and lipstick all over his cheek but— but Mel can’t say he hates it. He really can’t. Asher’s breath is hot and heavy, sticking to his face, filling him with something like _envy_ something like _want._ “I want you to be my partner, okay? Want you to do this with me all the time. You’ll learn, I’ll teach you. Don’t you want that, Mellie?”

“I—” And, and, the thing is, Mel—

Mel’s never been able to just— _not_ listen to Asher. Not Asher, who drags Mel to his room at 4am ‘cause _I downloaded that new movie from that series you liked and I just finished marathoning all the previous ones so we have to watch the new one together c’mon Mel please_ , even though Asher will still be in his uniform, will still have his mouth smeared up with precome and saliva, will still have big watery eyes but _he’s excited_ so of course Mel listens!

He can’t just _not_ listen to Asher, who shows up to Mel’s cheerleading practice, waves and cheers and shouts in the background ‘cause _you’re doing so good, Mellie!_ and then watches Mel a little—intensely, before he slides up close after practice and says, _y’know, I think Coach Skyris would be a little nicer to you if you showed off how bendy you are more often. Seriously!_ and Mel listened to that too, Mel _listens to Asher—_

So if, if Asher’s giving him those big-big eyes and saying _don’t you wanna do this with me? Don’t you wanna be a slut like me, Mellie?_ then—

Mel licks his lips, swallows nervously, and nods. Looks up and meets Mr. Minkarski’s eyes, dark green and intent and _watching-watching-watching_ for any misstep, any mistake, any mistrial. “I—I want it.”

Asher practically _squeals_ and this time—this time he kisses Mel straight on the lips, wet and sloppy but he _does it._ “I’ll do the bottom and you do the top okay?”

He grabs the second cock, the one that looks less phalic, more like a tentacle but still hard enough to grasp. Asher’s giggling, eyes dilated and breath short and heavy, watching the way Mel’s trying to just—stumble through whatever he’s doing here, even as Asher sinks his mouth down all the way, the corners of his mouth turned up despite how full his mouth is.

Mel huffs again, curls his fingers around his stupid fucking tentacle dick. _Fuck_ , what the fuck? Mel thought it would be more flexible, maybe, but it’s—um, it’s kinda more firm than he thought, and the length of it is just slick-sloppy with Minkarski’s precome, and—

Asher’s pulling back again, pouting ‘cause Mel’s making him get off from his _favorite_. “Mel! It’s okay, just—like a lollipop, okay?”

“Okay, okay, just—” Mel glances back up at Mr. Minkarski’s face, _why is he staring so intensely, that’s not necessary_. “Tell him to stop looking at me like that.”

Asher nods, bats his eyelashes again. “Kanzen, stop looking at him, even if he is pretty.”

Minkarski just—rolls his eyes. “I’ve gotta look at him if I wanna look at you, Ash.”

“Kanzen!”

“ _Fine_.”

Mel—tries not to think about _that_ too hard, ‘cause—first of all, Minkarski should be _grateful_ he gets to see Mel like this, it’s not like anyone else has ever had, before, and, well—there is no second thing, but _still_ , Minkarski should be twice as grateful, that Mel’s willing to handle his _weird fuckin’ double-dick!_ Okay. Just—like Asher said! Like a lollipop. Mel can do that, he can do lollipops, just—he tries to lick at Minkarski’s second cock but almost pokes himself in the eye ‘cause the damn thing won’t stop _quivering_. Not even like, proper twitching? It’s just. Kinda wobbly.

Mel tries not to laugh hysterically.

See, here’s the thing about lollipops, _Asher—_ they don’t move. They stand still and they let you do whatever you want to them— _this guy?_ This guy has his hand in Mel’s hair, pushing him down down until he can feel his gag reflex kick in. The dick might not be a tentacle but it still moves, not like the one Asher has. He _swears_ he can hear him laughing, but he’d be damned if he’s not good at this—‘cause—‘cause fuck that guy, honestly! He swirls his tongue even if the flavor’s nasty, he sucks as hard as he can even when Minkarski hisses— _watch the teeth._ ‘Cause he can _do this_ he can.

He glances at Asher and sees those gold eyes looking straight up at Minkarski, and he’s not even gagging not even a little bit! His nose is basically _against_ Minkarski’s skin, but he can still hear Asher giggling like this is fun for him. It probably is, judging by the flush on his skin, the quirk of his lips, the slick dripping from him. Asher’s officially his role model. _Goal of the month: suck dick like Asher._

Another difference between dicks and lollipops, _Asher:_ lollipops don’t spurt bodily fluids! Minkarski rasps out that he’s gonna come and— _hell no._ It’s enough that Mel put this asshole’s squirmy cock in his mouth—he is _not_ drinking whatever comes out it!

Asher must see the panic in Mel’s eyes ‘cause he’s pulling Minkarski’s hand off of Mel’s head thank _Maker—_ Mel pops up, gasps for breath, and—

Gets smacked in the face with come.

It’s just—he yelps as he feels it hit his cheeks, it’s really really _warm what the fuck_ —and his nose, and he gasps, snaps his mouth shut when he tastes a bit of it—

What—what a—

Why is Mr. Minkarski _such a fuckin’ jerk?!_

He rubs the sleeves of his shirt against his eyelids ‘cause _holy fucking shit it got on his eyelids what the fuck—_

Opens his eyes up just to see Asher _drinking the actual, true, literal personification of Death’s come._

Mel—does not whimper. No, he doesn’t, that’s not the sound that comes out of his throat, he didn’t even _make_ any sounds, but _Ash what the fuck?_

Minkarski’s watching him like—like some _serial killer_ , so intently it’s fucking _scary._ Mel kinda doesn’t blame him ‘cause Asher’s swallowed at least four times and—how much come is in this kid’s diet?

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Asher pops up and _opens his mouth_ , tongue out and smile as big as can be to show yes, he really did _do that._ Minkarski’s smiling— Mel doesn’t think he’s ever seen him smile before it’s a little, scary? — and cooing, _that’s my baby, always so good for me._

Ew. No. Ew ew ew no. _Noooo_ , what the fuck, no, _why_ —

“Mel!” Asher’s staring at him and—yup. There’s come on his face. He remembers now. “Mel, you did it!”

Minkarski’s _laughing his ass off_ and Mel’s _two seconds away_ from ripping off his weird, wobbly worm penis when Asher just _jumps_ on top of him, pushes him to the ground, and starts _licking the come_ off his face. “You’re my partner,” Asher purrs. “Got it?”

Is this hot? Or is this gross? Is licking someone’s come off of another person’s face sexy? He doesn’t really know, he’s gonna have to pin that to the Thought Board of his mind ‘cause Asher’s shoving his tongue down his throat and Mel—

Mel’s all too happy to do anything, to kiss him back and say “ _Got it, Ash._ ”


	2. siren song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get angsty very, very fast.

Asher’s room is so fuckin’ big he’s got a _king-sized mattress._

There’s actual, real-life windows, not the shitty windows Mel has with his shitty roommate. And Asher brings him to a real _bathroom suite_ with a tub and shit and—“How the fuck did you score this?”

Asher giggles. “First teacher I fucked was Tovi.”

...Tovi? Who’s—wait, Tovi _Javik_? “The _Headmaster?_ No. Bullshit. You’re lying.”

Asher shrugs a shoulder. “There’s vids up on the private school channel. You have to pay to see it, though.” Asher sighs almost dreamily. “He’s _such_ a good fuck, too. You’ll get there someday, I promise I’ll get you good enough to fuck him.”

Yay? Is Mel looking forward to that? To fucking 8-foot tall Tovi Javik? He literally smells like chemicals all the time. Half of his tail is gone from an experiment he conducted on himself. But—to say he had the Headmaster fuck him would be _so cool!_ Cooler than saying he got spermed in the face by Two Dick _Minkarski._

Whatever! Whatever, it’s all in the past, Ash let him clean his face and do a face mask so it’s all gone! Only flowers now.

“Anyway!” Asher’s saying, opening up his closet door and looking through inside. “You are— _not_ my size, I’m gonna have to ask Nova for more—”

Nova—Nova’s on cheer team, she's crazy and has shark teeth and a Maker complex. What's Asher want with _her?_ Mel blinks. “What?”

Asher twirls around to face him again. “Anyway! Sorry I told Kanzen you were a virgin.”

— _No, why are you bringing this up_. Mel shivers, ‘cause bath and facemasks be damned, he can _still remember_ the warm stickiness on his face and—no! No no no no no. Shut _up_ , brain.

“Ya know what!” Mel hops off the bed. “It’s fine! Don’t mention it!”

“But—”

“No, seriously, don’t mention it. Ever.” Before Asher can say anything about that _ever again_ Mel looks at his wall to see…wow. “You, uh. Gonna tell me what’s up with your very well-designed but still serial killer-like collage of every single person in the student body and faculty?”

Seriously, every single person’s yearbook photo is printed out—who prints shit out anymore? Apparently Ash—and laid carefully on the wall with tallies underneath each picture. “Please tell me those tallies aren’t the number of times you’ve poisoned them.” Minkarski has the most tallies. “I take that back. Please tell me they mean you’ve poisoned them.”

Asher laughs and smacks his arm. “No! It’s every time I’ve fucked them.” Oh. That’s why Minkarski has the most—what’s that weird feeling in his chest? That’s not, no, that’s _not_ jealousy totally not. “And we’re gonna start your own serial-killer like collage ‘cause we’re partners! And you gotta catch up.”

“Ash, you’ve slept with every single person in this school more than once. How am I gonna catch up?”

“With my patience, guidance, and abundance of very tiny skirts and panties. I ordered you some with Nova while you were in the bath.”

Mel blinks. “Um—”

“Nova does—” Asher explains. “She, well—she kinda does the same thing as me. Anyway! I probably should’ve asked your size but I’m _pretty good_ at approximating— _anyway my point is_.” He pauses. Takes another look at Mel. “We’re—! We’re partners, okay? This is our thing now. We do everything together now—I’m already having someone move your things over to my dorm.” He pauses. “Oh. I should’ve asked for permission for...that…”

Oh, wow, lots of information. “I, uh...no, no that’s fine! Really. I like your set up. Your bed is _amazing._ ” He lays on it for emphasis. “But, hey, not to, y’know, kill your vibe but...I’m a virgin. I don’t know how to _do_ this.”

Asher sits next to Mel and- wow, he’s close, really close. “That’s okay. I started off as a virgin, too, but then Tovi fucked me in his office and well! It just happens! But if you _really_ wanna lose your virginity before your pussy premiere—” he scoots closer, puts a hand on Mel’s inner thigh. “I can do that.”

Mel—his lungs hurt, and maybe that’s just ‘cause he breathed in too-hard too-quick and started _wheezing_ , but—“S-sorry?”

And then Asher’s smoothing his palms on Mel’s uniform pants, hefting himself up to sit in Mel’s lap like he was— like he was _made to,_ he just fits _so well—_ “You can fuck me.” There’s that smile again, the one that makes Mel’s heart stop beating. “As many times as you want, okay? It might take a few rounds to get all the virginity out, you know?”

“You—” Mel’s trying to say something, probably, but Asher’s still in his tiny skirt and still in Mel’s lap, settling down and throwing his arms around Mel’s shoulders to press their noses together. It’d be real cute if it wasn’t making Mel’s heart beat fast enough to make his rib-cage collapse in on itself. “I—um, you what?”

“You know, I felt how hard you got when I was making out with you.” Asher’s breath is tickling Mel’s lips and— and he’s gonna die, that’s it, this is it, folks, the death of Mel. “I see you staring at me in the halls, too. When you help record me I see you trying to act slick, pressing against yourself, but I see, you know?” He bats his eyelashes as if he didn’t just blow Mel’s poorly kept hard-ons out of the water and into the public eye. “You can lay down for the first one. Just let me do it. And then we’ll figure it out— you can figure out how to fuck someone, yeah? Just use me up.”

But he doesn’t _wanna_ use Ash up—Ash is his friend, his _best pal_ ever, who stays up for days watching stupid movies and TV shows, who snorts when he laughs too hard and is _so talented_ , more talented than anyone on this moon. Asher deserves softness and romance, deserves something better than him, better than this.

But Asher’s smiling at him, pressing down on the hard-on that won’t go away no matter how bad he feels about this cause—cause he still wants it. He still wants him.

Mel wants him so _bad_ it’s pathetic. The ice-white hair and the pretty smiles and the entwining of fingers while watching their dumb fantasy movies. The hugs and kisses that mean more than _you’re my best friend, Mel, the best_ , and Mel shouldn’t be so greedy, shouldn’t demand for anything _more_ but—

But—

But Asher’s on his lap, Asher’s playing with the belt-loops of Mel’s pants, hooking his fingers through and then leaning up to press a kiss against Mel’s jaw, and he says, “So what’d’you say, Mellie?”

Mel can’t trust his voice, can’t trust anything about himself—but he can turn his head just a little bit, tilt in just so, and press his lips against Asher’s. He can _do that,_ he can flip them over so he’s on top, so he’s the one kissing Asher until he can’t breathe. ‘Cause—cause he might be a virgin but, Asher drives him fucking _crazy_ with want and heartache and _everything,_ everything.

He hopes Asher can tell. That he’s not just crazy for the sex but crazy for _him_ , for the smiles, for the laughs, for the singing— _everything, everything, everything._ And when he doesn’t know what to do, when his hands fumble, too scared to lift up Asher’s skirt, Asher gets on top and _looks at him_. Not how he looks at the other boys or teachers or cameras but— maybe it’s nothing. It’s probably nothing. But he can pretend.

And Mel—Mel can be good at pretending! He pretends he’s tough and picks fights, he pretends he pays attention in class, he pretends that he’s doing well in school when he calls Mama every week, but—

But pretending starts to ache after a while, and he can’t remember how to stop doing it, can’t unstick his trembling teeth from the stitched-up smile he’s forced them into, but—but—

Mel can pretend. And for Asher, he will. ‘Cause—’cause he always does. This isn’t new. This isn’t _new_.

So he just—he’s not sure what to do with his hands, whether he puts them on Asher’s hips or spine or thighs, but Asher’s straddling him and running his small hands down Mel’s chest, unbuttoning his uniform dress shirt and pricking his claws gently against Mel’s tummy, hooks his fingers into the waistband of Mel’s pants—

And Asher’s being nice about it, sweet about it, ‘cause Asher’s nice, sweet, _charming_ about everything he does, everything he loves, and Mel can stick his brain back into that mindset where he can _pretend-pretend-pretend_ , go through with this whole thing and say _this is fine this is fine_ while his whole body is on fire, he can do it, he can _do that_ , it’s just—

It’s not gonna keep the burns from hurting, but sunscreen exists, he guesses.

And Asher’s pressing more and more kisses against Mel’s mouth, his throat, taking Mel’s hands so gently and _don’t worry, don’t worry Mellie, I’ll help you_ , and he’s soft and sweet and _warm_ and—

Mel’s lungs are hurting again.

By the time Mel’s pants are gone he’s _shaking_ , full body tremors that nearly knock Asher _off_ , he’s so tiny so breakable and Mel—Mel’s just an earthquake that can shatter him at any minute. _He should stay away from me._

But Asher’s smiling at him, taking his hands and kissing each knuckle, each finger pad, _tell me to stop and I will._ But that’s the thing— Mel would never tell Asher to stop, not even if his heart was stopping, not even if the world was about to end.

He never tells Ash to stop, never ever, cause Makers look at him, listen to him, everything about him is everything Mel has ever wanted ever _dreamed about._ He doesn’t want this moment to end. He never wants to see Asher anywhere else but _right here,_ smiling down at him, long starlight hair framing his face, grazing Mel’s skin.

 _“No, don’t stop.”_ He smiles too shaky too unsure too _wild_ to be convincing but—“I want this.” _You you you I want you._

Asher smiles, crinkles at the corner of his moon eyes and he says he wants this too and Mel can almost believe him.

Almost.

Now, listen, he tries so hard to keep his mouth shut, push his emotions down, but— _Makers,_ the minute he’s inside of Asher, not even fully in, he’s seeing supernovas behind his eyes, even his _teeth_ feel it, like biting into something cold, something foreign. He’s saying stupid shit, ridiculous shit like _you’re so beautiful_ and _I don’t deserve you but Makers do I want you._

Ash must hear this all the time, hear men break and shatter under his hands, spill out secrets just from getting a kiss. Like those stupid Human tales of mermaids, coaxing sailors out, singing so beautifully, kissing so deeply, that they don’t mind drowning, not at all.

And laying underneath Asher, under his starlight hair, moon-big eyes, wrapped up in his warmth, he doesn’t even feel like he’s on land. He’s underneath, with him, with the moon breathing through the water. With Asher, singing. He doesn’t want to go up, not for anything, not even air.

_You’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Ash._

And, and _Maker_ , Asher keeps touching him, too, pressing his thumb against Mel’s mouth when Mel speaks, and Ash just _smiles_ , sweet and a little shaky, and he—starts to frown when Mel clenches his eyes shut, but _Maker, Maker, he just wants to feel_ —

Asher shouldn’t have to wipe away the tears that keep falling from Mel’s eyes, _he’s so pathetic, he’s so pathetic_ , but—

When Mel hiccups, hisses out _I’m so sorry please don’t stop_ , Asher gives him another weary-worried grin, more fragile than Mel’s ever seen it, and he goes back to riding Mel ‘til Mel’s rib-cage breaks down, ‘til his lungs collapse, ‘til his heart stops, ‘til the world ends.

Mel shouldn’t say it hurts. He’s being selfish if he says it hurts. But everything burns, everything aches, and everything stings, and Mel—

Mel is so, so selfish.


End file.
